Standing by the campfire,
so many years ago.
Trying to stay warm,
when it began to snow.
The hiss of snowflakes
into the flaming fire.
The flickering shadows,
across the ground
so white with snow.
Smelling the smoke,
now on our clothes.
Banking the fire,
going to our tent,
into our sleeping bag,
trying to sleep
of a Winter morn.
Standing by the campfire,
Out to dinner last night.
She ordered a Caesar Salad.
When it came, She said,
"What is this?"
Her memory is no longer there.
After we had finished
She said, "Did you know my Mom?
Did you know my Dad?"
I replied, Yes I did and
they were very nice people.
Then she said to me,
"Tell me about your family?"
I told her about what I knew,
Realizing she no longer knows
Who I am.
Her memory loss continues to
to slip away, much to my dismay.
Our life is a shamble,
at least it is to me,
for we no longer talk freely.
You speak words, yes you do,
but there the same words,
that you say, over and over again.
Every few minutes you will say,
"I liked that place,
what was it called?",
not recalling anything
I'd told you before.
My patience has become strained,
as I repeat my answer again.
I do not say I told you that before.
Reminding myself, it's not
her fault, not in any way,
while I continue to see you,
slowly slipping, slipping away.
We had Liberty in a foreign port
and had to be back to ship by
12 Midnight, or Cinderella Liberty.
Returning to our ship prior to
2400 hours, or 12 midnight,
you would approach the ship
and do a hand salute to the stern
or rear of the ship, then a hand salute
to the Officer of the Deck, saying
"Requesting permission to come
aboard, Sir". Salute returned.
Then to your bunk, quietly undress,
clothes placed in your foot locker.
Climb into the suspended cot,
on to your mattress covered
by enclosing into a bag or as
we lovingly referred to as a
"Fart Sack." Pull the woolen
blanket over you and go to sleep.
Another day in Paradise,
courtesy of our Uncle Sam.
I get into bed;
you're already there.
you say to me,
"I love you".
Those words that
I hear are precious,
to me for I
hear them, not often.
It is great
when you say that
for then, what
I hear is
all it can be.
An expression of love
between man and wife,
who have been together
almost all our life.
I love you
my precious one
and will do so
until our life is done.
She said to me,
"if I tell you to go,
would you just leave?
When you look at me,
I see the sadness, you feel
and know you'll be
better when I'm gone."
I said "Stop don't talk like that
for I am here for you,
no matter what you might do.
Please don't worry about me;
we will manage this, please agree."
She looked and nodded at me.
You talk to me often
when at the mall.
If I ask you a question
you say, "I don't recall."
I tell you, "I love you"
that's easy to say,
but you don't seem
to hear me and walk away.
The sadness then
comes over me
and I pray once again
for you not to see,
for this time of our life
and its destiny.
I had joined the Naval Reserve
while in High School.
Went to meetings at night,
learned much and to do drills
and about all the rules in
the UCJ or Uniform Code of Justice,
as I recall.
Too much partying in College,
I needed to go on Active Duty.
It wasn't long and I had travel
Over to Seattle, I went on the train,
out to the Naval pier by bus.
We were instructed to remove our clothes,
but keep on your socks and shoes.
Gave us a clipboard, with papers attached.
I was in line, we were going to get shots,
in each arm. Walked down the line,
with the clipboard in hand,
the only thing covering the sign of a Man.
But there is more to come.
I'll tell you soon.
More to tell you about
the shot over the Moon.
Playing soccer, many years ago.
I received a pass and off I'd go.
Dribbling the ball, I planted my foot;
Turning my body, my right foot in the air,
going to pass the ball downfield to my
mate, when I was hit in the back
by a defender, who was late.
My right foot was coming down,
the toe hit the ground; I heard a "SNAP",
fell to the ground and probably said "Crap".
I hobbled off the field to the sidelines again,
sat down with a number of friends.
My right foot was hurting, I unlaced my shoe
and the sock on that foot started to swell.
It puffed up and hurt real bad,
so some of the boys, helped me to my car.
An automatic, helped me a lot
and I drove home, staying in the car.
I honked the horn, my wife came to see
why I was honking. I said I think I broke
my leg. Our neighbor was an Orthopedic Doc.
My wife went and talked to Dr Bill. He came
to the car. He drove me to his office
and put me in a U shaped cast to allow
room for the swelling. He gave me a prescription;
we went to the drugstore and got some crutches.
There is more to tell about this adventure of mine
but I will wait until another time.
Playing with my Cousins,
in our Grandfather's yard.
Running fast, on bare feet,
for it was our thing,
Then I stepped on something.
Ouch! A Bee sting.
Down to the creek; mix up some mud.
Put it on the sting in a big gob.
Laying in the Sun, the mud baking hard.
That was just another day in the yard.
Go back to the creek, wash off the dirt,
test out your foot, it no longer hurt.
It was back in the day,
many years ago,
in a place called Riverton Heights.
The Seattle Times held a contest
at local schools.
I attended Showalter then,
atop the hill above Foster.
The contest was called
Old woody was a frame of wood,
in the shape of a Baseball strike zone,
in the center. A distance was set.
Each contestant would go to the mound
and throw balls. The rule was
to throw strikes until such time
that you threw 4 balls.
The winner was determined by the
one with the total number of three
Surprise it was to me,
when I beat all the others
and won the contest.
The Seattle Times took my picture
and was in the sport pages the next day.
So my claim to fame at a very young age.
Many years have passed
since that time in my life.
It was my first competition in baseball.
Great story. It is nice to have the photos to help us remember special times from our childhood. I enjoy your posts, thanks for sharing.